Our Time - Klashnekoff

Yo, fuck the long talk, life too short, get caught short

Find your body outlined in chalk, mind how you walk

There’s chickenbait bods, meatwagons filled with pork

Looking to transport your arse to court for half a quartz

You’re getting scorched like torch, burners being bought import

Missions get abort, Feds waiting at the airport

CID, armed force, Inspector Morse

Who swore on his life that he' would take back your corpse

For sending coppers to the morgues, shotting green from abroad

Importing weed, horse and repro-fraud

For four years they’ve been scanning, planning the operation

Patiently waiting for you to get brazen

Catch you in your crib when your calm and sedated

At half five, you sleep, your yard get raided

Goods get confiscated, crops of green get cremated

Breys stripped to the basics

Incarcerated with racist scarfaces

Tell gory stories of wars and past capers

Puff, puff, pass the vapours, spliff wrapped in papers

It’s dangerous, but keep your head high like Mr. Vegas

These days are venomous, who can I trust?

When man’s getting snuffed over twenty-five bucks

While the witness walk by with their Eyes Wide Shut, it’s all fucked

Everynight I cry blood and send one love to George Bush

Mug sealed with a slug from the shadows, what?

Coppers cock back the carbine, it´s hard times but it’s our time

So when times hard keep that in mind

It’s a rocky road, how we cope only God knows

Walking a thin line between love and hate like a tightrope

Shadow, code name the black Russian

Rupture production bust ya head like percussion

Brudda you must be buzzin', fassyhole whats your malfunction?

With your forked tounge and plastic smile like Al Johnson

My word’s bond, women respond like I’m Pierce Brosnan

Pouring me fine white wine mixed with poison

Planning and plotting my downfall with the boysdem

But little did they know I’m incognito up in Croyden

With two buff beanies, one was from Croatia

The other was half-Asian whose dad came from Jamaica

She made the wickedest rice and peas you ever taste uh

But that’s a next chapter

Sagas of Klashnekoff the never ending saga

Parrow Picasso when I put pen to paper

The psychopathic painter paintin' pictures with a razor

Gazing at Alpha-Beta from my highrise skyscraper

In the East Maze Fantasia, where man will erase ya

And digital dan-daddas come strapped with a laser

Like Quasar, feel myself drifting like J-Star

While downloading data from my web of deciet

Baggin' up my weed, while weighin' up my options

Red fibre optics from cocktail concoctions

Twisted like contortion or coppers up in Hoxton

Who had certain black yutes on road shottin' rocks for them

What?

You think I’ve forgotten?

Fuck Sir Paul Condon, your whole force is rotten!

YOU CUNT!

Coppers cock back the carbine, it´s hard times but it’s our time

So when times hard keep that in mind

It’s a rocky road, how we cope only God knows

Walking a thin line between love and hate like a tightrope